


Something I Didn’t Say

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: Buffy has a confession. (Off-canon epilogue to ‘Older and Far Away’)





	1. Part One

As Buffy went to close her front door, putting an end to yet another birthday gone wrong, she made a split second decision and held it open a second longer. Then, looking past Spike, the Slayer let her gaze rest on Tara.

“Hey, uh, could you come back a sec? I… I think you left your drink.”

Tara, Spike, and everyone else in the exit party looked back at Buffy, and she felt herself shrink back a little.

“What’s up?” asked Dawn, from behind her.

Buffy half-turned so she could have everyone in her line of sight, with her sister now on her left and everyone in the yard on her right, then replied to Dawn, “I’ll be up in a minute. We’ll talk?”

Dawn nodded and made her way over to the staircase, then Buffy turned back to the rest who were still stood there, waiting.

She bit her lip. “Uh, Tara?”

The witch flashed her an encouraging yet slightly timid smile as everyone else looked briefly at her and then began to move off again. Spike’s glance was a second longer than the rest, but Buffy was pretty sure she and Tara were the only one to notice that.

She had to resist the urge to pull him back in, too.

In a sudden wave of understanding of Dawn’s wish, Buffy felt the pull of herself in seeing him go; of all of them, really, but mostly him. Her guts clenched, and Tara walked back up the path to put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Buffy said on impulse, before taking one last look at Spike’s back, pulling Tara the rest of the way into the house and shutting the door. “No. Actually, I’m not sure.”

Tara donned a concerned expression, but before she could ask anything else, Buffy barrelled on to say, “I wanted to talk. There, uh…” she looked down at her nails and resisted the sudden urge to cry. Why had she chosen to do this now? Or at all? Why couldn’t she just leave it alone?”

“Buffy?” Tara’s voice was soft. Almost too soft. It called Buffy further into the temptation of spilling her guts.

“It’s stupid,” she said, still not quite looking at her.

Tara’s hand found her shoulder again, as her voice took on some steal. “If Spike did something–” she began, only to trail off when Buffy shook her head.

“It’s not him. I mean, it is, but…”

“Okay,” said Tara, guiding Buffy into her own living room and sitting down opposite her on the couch just like they’d done during part one of the conversation, the week before. “Deep breaths. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Buffy took the advice, filling her lungs to near capacity before blurting out, “It was me.”

Tara’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“I…” Buffy paused again to twist her fingers around each other. Finally, she looked up and met Tara’s eyes full on. “What I said before – and how you reacted to… him – I realized that I didn’t tell you something.”

“Okay,” Tara repeated, clearly holding off on any more questions until Buffy finished.

“The thing is… he – _Spike_ – he… does do those things, but I…” she took another breath. “It was me that started it. The things. Sex. And even the kissing. There was a whole lot that he did but, that first kiss and the first time, it was–” she swallowed, her gaze wavering slightly, “It was me.”

“Oh,” said Tara. It was all she could say for what felt like hours.

“Don’t hate me,” Buffy found herself whispering.

Tara let out a surprised laugh. “Hate you? Buffy!” She shook her head and pulled the Slayer close. “Buffy, I could never.”

“But… But I–” she began to splutter.

“You kissed Spike and then slept with him? That’s not the crime of the century.”

Buffy shook her head. “But I… I shouldn’t, and then I told you, but I made it sound like–”

“Buffy,” Tara said again, her voice back to velvet soft. “It’s okay.”

“How?” said Buffy. “How could it be? How can I feel these things?”

Tara took a deep breath before saying, “I don’t have answers, but I’m willing to hear you out. It sounds like there’s a lot to talk about, but it really has been a long night.”

Buffy nodded. “I know, god–” she looked down and their entwined hands and laughed, “I’m such a mess. I’m sorry.”

Tara smiled a little. “You’re allowed to be a mess, you know.”

Another bark of laughter escaped Buffy’s lips. “Now you tell me.”

Tara hugged her. “Listen, Buffy. I need to go, but I’ll come back around in the morning. We can go through everything.”

“Yeah,” said Buffy, “Okay. I just… I needed you to know that it wasn’t him, not like that.”

Tara nodded then let her go. “We’ll talk it all through,” she affirmed.

Buffy smiled, amazed at how light she suddenly felt. She thanked Tara and said goodnight, then went up to Dawn.

“What was that about?” she asked when she entered the room.

“There’s been a lot going on,” said Buffy.

Dawn snorted. “I’ll say.”

Buffy took a seat beside her on the bed. “You’re not the only one who has been keeping things secret, you know.”

Dawn sat up and looked at her. “Have you been crying? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Buffy, “Or, well, not nothing. Nothing panic-worthy. Just… stuff. We’ll get there. I’m gonna be better at telling you stuff.”

“Okay,” said Dawn, sounding wary in a way that reminded Buffy of Tara. She laughed again at the thought, then ploughed on.

“I know it wasn’t easy,” she said, taking a cushion and holding it tight to her chest. “Having things come out like that but, if it would make you feel any better, I have a confession too.”

Dawn didn’t say anything, she just looked back at her sister like she expected the world to end. Again. And maybe it was about to, but there was only one way to find out.

“The thing is… I’m kind of in love with Spike.”


	2. Part Two

His mouth hung open so far, the cigarette dropped out and scorched him on the hand on the way to the floor of his crypt where it lay forgotten among the dirt of and dust.

He didn’t notice.

“Wh-what–” there was a tremor in his voice. He slow-blinked for a second. “What did you say?”

Buffy swallowed. “I love you.”

She watched his face shift through six different shades of emotion before resting on anger.

“You bitch,” he said, with more contempt than she’d heard in all the time he was trying to kill her.

“What?” now her voice was shaking. Now the world was crashing. Everything was burning. “What did you just call me?”

Spike shook his head. “I thought you were harsh before, but you’ve never been cruel.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask ‘what’ again, but then it clicked.

“You don’t believe me.”

Silence. He didn’t – _couldn’t_ – answer.

“Oh my god! Spike, you jackass, you actually don’t believe me!” She felt like hitting him but resisted the urge. Barely. “You think I say this easily?”

That gave him pause. His features changed back to confused, then aching mournful. For a second, he struggled to reply then, when he still couldn’t, he stepped closer, as if testing the water.

Buffy didn’t pull away. Didn’t run. “Spike,” she said, her hands fisted at her sides. “I love you.”

 

The world whited out as he came at her in crashing wave, catching her up in his arms. “Buffy,” he said, tears falling down his cheeks as his arms held tighter only to pull back again and search her face once more.

“Say it again.”

She didn’t want to, and resented him for asking, but she understood as well. Biting down on her fear, she repeated, “I love you.”

He sucked in a breath. “God, Buffy. I love _you_.”

She smiled, finally, as relief rolled through her. She knew logically he hadn’t been about to say anything else, but that hadn’t quelled the angst of waiting for his response.

“I love you,” she said again, trying out the words not out of necessity or because he’d asked. She surprised herself, finding herself actually wanting to say them. “I love you, Spike. I do.” Laughter bubbled out of her, and she let herself take in the beauty of his face as he gazed back at her in awe.

Then, calmly, she put a hand to his cheek and looked deep into his eyes as she said it with all the meaning and depth in the world: “I love you.”


End file.
